I have been feeling lately like the flavor of our life is slightly changing. Like when you put a drip of honey in your peppermint tea, and suddenly it's something new. And then you add a little lemon to change it even more.
I was with Violet at Gasworks park yesterday, and she kept asking me, rather politely, if I would please just go sit down over there. I was in a listening mood, so I did what I was told. Then I watched as she wandered just about twenty feet away, and sat down by herself, and picked her nose.
And I got this shock to the heart;
she is getting so grown
and knows, suddenly,
that picking her nose is fine, as long as mom is too far away to see or to scold or to hand her a tissue.
Oh God, help me now.
The funny thing about life with a three year old, or at least my life with my 3 year old, is that it is this constant game of reasoning, or often, outwitting. If I think of Violet as having the combined brain of myself and Tyler, it's no real wonder that she not only can often predict exactly what I am going to say or do, but can also often figure out ways to outsmart me.
And as I sat there watching her from across the grass, I thought to myself for just this moment I want to just take it in; you, sitting there on the top of a grassy hill, in the sun and polkadots, watching boats, picking your nose. Because tomorrow you will be older, and you will discover so many many things that are far more fun and dirty (and troubling to me, as your mother). And this is beautiful.
3 year olds can be so very trying; so very naughty at times, making the lovely moments seem even more fleeting and precious than they already are.
I see now why everyone always tells me to savor these years. I feel like I have and do, but now I am beginning to see how right they are; this probably won't last forever. My morning won't always get to begin with Violet, running down the hallway pleased as pie, holding in each fist a pair of socks-- one for me and one for Tyler, because she can't stand to see our poor naked cold little toes on the kitchen floor.
And I probably won't always get to see a parade every afternoon.
Here is one for you:
I was with Violet at Gasworks park yesterday, and she kept asking me, rather politely, if I would please just go sit down over there. I was in a listening mood, so I did what I was told. Then I watched as she wandered just about twenty feet away, and sat down by herself, and picked her nose.
And I got this shock to the heart;
she is getting so grown
and knows, suddenly,
that picking her nose is fine, as long as mom is too far away to see or to scold or to hand her a tissue.
Oh God, help me now.
The funny thing about life with a three year old, or at least my life with my 3 year old, is that it is this constant game of reasoning, or often, outwitting. If I think of Violet as having the combined brain of myself and Tyler, it's no real wonder that she not only can often predict exactly what I am going to say or do, but can also often figure out ways to outsmart me.
And as I sat there watching her from across the grass, I thought to myself for just this moment I want to just take it in; you, sitting there on the top of a grassy hill, in the sun and polkadots, watching boats, picking your nose. Because tomorrow you will be older, and you will discover so many many things that are far more fun and dirty (and troubling to me, as your mother). And this is beautiful.
3 year olds can be so very trying; so very naughty at times, making the lovely moments seem even more fleeting and precious than they already are.
I see now why everyone always tells me to savor these years. I feel like I have and do, but now I am beginning to see how right they are; this probably won't last forever. My morning won't always get to begin with Violet, running down the hallway pleased as pie, holding in each fist a pair of socks-- one for me and one for Tyler, because she can't stand to see our poor naked cold little toes on the kitchen floor.
And I probably won't always get to see a parade every afternoon.
Here is one for you:
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